Night Chill
by Collegekid2006
Summary: Juliet won't admit she's cold. Someone figures it out, anyway. Shules.


Juliet was an idiot.

There was no way around it.

As soon as she stepped out of the car and felt the rush of cold night air hit her face, she knew it was true.

_I didn't even bring a jacket…_

_What kind of detective shows up at a crime scene in the middle of the night without a jacket?_

She sighed and shut her door, already feeling the goose bumps beginning to raise on her arms.

_It's hanging on my kitchen chair…_

_It was right there…_

_Why didn't I grab it…?_

_Because I'm an idiot._

_That's why._

She quickly ran her hands over her bare arms, trying to warm them up before ducking under the yellow police tape.

She marched towards the dark alley where the body had been discovered, but stopped when she heard a voice behind her.

"Hey, Jules."

She turned around as Shawn approached, grinning.

"Hey, Shawn. Where's Gus?"

"He said he wasn't getting out of his warm bed in the middle of the night to go look at a dead body." Shawn shrugged. "Especially not a body that had been shot twenty-two times."

For a brief moment, Juliet made the mistake of allowing herself to be confused.  
"I didn't hear anything about--"

"I may have filled in some blanks…" Shawn explained, cutting her off with a breezy wave of his hand before she could finish her thought. "But finding the body of a drug dealer who was shot twenty-two times just sounds so much cooler than finding a John Doe with no signs of violence."

"He probably just froze to death." Juliet mumbled, watching her breath come out in small, white puffs as she spoke.

"You're not cold are you, Jules?" Shawn laughed, zipping his leather jacket up to his neck.

"No."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" She snapped, resisting the impulse to rub her arms again. "I'm not cold! I'm fine! If I was cold, I would've brought a jacket."

"Okay…" Shawn conceded, raising his hands in defeat. "You're not cold."

She pushed ahead him, deeper into the alley. She could hear his footsteps growing quicker behind her, trying to keep up.

"I guess I was just thrown off by the whole turning blue thing." He needled, finally coming alongside her again. "And all the goose bumps."

"I don't have goose bumps!"

"Then you need to find a good dermatologist." Shawn snorted. "And don't touch me. You might be contagious."

She glared at him, running her fingers self-consciously over her arm, feeling each bump like she was reading Braille.

"I don't have goosebumps." She reiterated.

Shawn grinned and stepped in closer, gently running a single finger down her arm.

"They feel like goosebumps to me." He murmured, his eyes meeting hers.

She didn't pull away from his touch.

Not at first.

"I thought I was contagious." She murmured back, finally breaking eye-contact with him and pushing on towards the crime scene.

"I said maybe." Shawn shrugged, quickly catching up with her again. "I'll risk maybe…I usually win with maybe."

"Well, you'll lose this time, Shawn." She informed him. "Because I'm not contagious. And I'm not cold."

"Sure you are." He insisted lightly, matching her pace stride-for-stride. "Admit it…you're freezing. And now you're just angling for my jacket."

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to him, staring up at him in complete bewilderment.

"What?"

"My jacket." He repeated, pulling the collar up in an attempt to look cool. "Admit it. You're just trying to get me to offer you my jacket. It's okay, Jules…really. It happens all the time. Girls love the leather jacket."

"What girls?"

"All girls. Why do you think I bought it?"

"I assumed it was some misguided, juvenile attempt to cling to your waning youth." She shot back, rolling her eyes and pushing on.

"My youth isn't waning!" He argued, sounding offended. "I'm still smack-dab in the middle of my youth!"

"Shawn." She laughed, turning back to him. "You're thirty-two."

"So?"

"So…you probably should've given up the jacket ten years ago. At least until your mid-life crisis."

"Why would I need a midlife crisis?" Shawn returned. "I never got over my early-life crisis."

"Clearly."

"See…" Shawn grinned, his eyes dancing. "You mock the jacket…but I'm psychic, remember? Deep down…you long for the jacket. You want the jacket. You need the jacket."

"I don't need the jacket, Shawn."

"It calls to you." Shawn insisted.

"Actually, oddly enough, I checked my messages tonight." Juliet retorted. "No calls from leather jackets. Sorry."

"I think you were just screening." Shawn gushed. "Come on, Jules…wear the jacket. You know you want to."

He unzipped the jacket and pulled it off, tossing it to her. She rolled her eyes and thought about tossing it back, but Shawn had already moved on, continuing on the way to the crime scene.

She sighed, staring down at the jacket in her hands.

It did look warm…

And she was freezing…

Finally, she decided she didn't have a choice.

It just wasn't worth being cold anymore.

She slipped the jacket on, almost gasping as the warmth immediately flooded her body.

_It's so warm…_

_So soft…_

_It fits perfectly…_

Actually, this last thought wasn't strictly true.

The jacket didn't fit perfectly…the arms were slightly too long and she had to pull them up to get her hands through.

But other than that…it fit perfectly.

The shoulders fell around her heavily, embracing her in a soft hug she could feel down to her toes. The leather smelled worn-in and slightly musty…with just a hint of something else…something familiar…

_It smells like Shawn…like the open road, like his hair gel…_

She zipped it up, suddenly feeling almost flushed with the intensity of the warmth.

She pulled the collar up, inhaling deeply as she let herself sink into the soft leather.

_He was right…_

_I do need this jacket…_


End file.
